And Soul and Sin
by pammazola
Summary: A part of Levi's past still comes back to haunt him, and he finds comfort in the company of Petra. Rated M for blood and adult situations. Rivetra shipping, written as a request for a Revenge!Levi prompt.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin.**

**For Day 6 of leviweek on tumblr and to fulfill a request by javi150190 for a revenge!Levi fanfiction. I don't think it is exactly what you asked for, but I hope that it is still satisfying. I apologize that it took me so long to write! Please enjoy and review if you feel like it today!**

**~oOo~**

_And Soul and Sin_

**~oOo~**

He remembers their faces, and all the blood, each dark, nauseating drop of crimson that painted the street, walls, his blades, his hands, and those very long, thin fissures that streaked across their necks. It flowed like a red river from the punctures in their chests, and their lips were rosy, parted slightly, perhaps for a final kiss from that person that he could not see: a wife, husband, or lover. Or a combination of a few. Even still, relation would not matter. Levi remembers each of the salty scarlet tears that seeped from the eye sockets of his victims, and it never got any easier. No matter how many times it happened. They could bite, claw, curse him and all he could do was silently agree, extinguish their existence and then spend any time in between thinking about who has the damn right to kill anyone. There are people who live to protect humanity, and then there were people like him. The world and its 'humanity' were never kind to Levi, and led him into the Underworld, where those with wealth ruled like gods and the strings were pulled taunt on the puppets they controlled. He was not accepted there, or out _there_, where the sun colored the earth in warm, golden rays. He could not walk among people, not when he was something a little less than human.

"Levi…"

He is startled. How does she know his name? He is sure he has never said and would never…

"_Levi…_"

No. She is dead. He killed her. She should not be speaking right now!

"Wake up, Levi."

Shut up. _Shut up._ He uses the toe of his boot to nudge her body over, a tight knot forming in his gut that constricted painfully, knowing that he will have to stab her again.

"Levi, dear…"

He sees her large hazel eyes, soulless, cloudy. He recognizes her. She is still young and beautiful. Pale, and there is so much blood. Far too much. He turns and he sees it everywhere, and he is coated completely. The smell burns his nostrils and suddenly he is drowning, choking on all of this blood that is not his own.

"_God damn, Levi_."

When he finally opens his flashing grey eyes, he sees Petra, and she sighs in relief. He is panting, sweating profusely, raven hair and the sheets to the bed that they share clinging to him, but he still thinks he is dreaming, back in that dark Underworld with her corpse laying lifeless at his feet. Without forewarning he throws the blankets away. Petra blinks, watching him tear away at his clothing rabidly, and she sees that the muscles in his lean back ripple in the process. He does not even take the time to fold them neatly in his usual manner. They are forgotten, trampled over as he near-drunkenly staggers naked across the room to the bucket of clean water that is nestled in the corner. Not breathing a word to Petra, and she bites upon her bottom lip, allowing him the moment to calm himself because she does not recognize those wild eyes and cannot fathom all they must have seen within his dreams.

Levi finds the white rag that sits beside the bucket, doses it, and then scrubs, scrubs, scrubs, scrubs his hands, arms, face, and chest. The water is piercingly cold, but he does not care and carries on. His lips are thin, brow creased in sharp concentration as he works. He knows that he is nearly rubbed raw but it is not enough. He can still see it. All of it. Everywhere.

Soon after, Petra rises, brushing back her messy copper hair, visibly concerned. She will not say it, though. Levi would scoff. That is a very womanly thing, her to be worrying. It is frustrating how careless he is because emotional stress is just as taxing as fighting Titans. So yes, it might be an 'un-soldier-like' attitude to want to pull him in after one of those nightmares he has and press his head into her bosom in comfort and love. If doing so makes her weak, then damn it, _someone_ has to be weak for him.

Petra slips on a robe and then quietly tiptoes over to where her squad leader continues to cleanse himself. He is oblivious to her until the cool wisp of her breath hits the back of his neck, followed by light, gentle kisses. The tension seems to drain from him. His shoulders slump forward in exhaustion, allowing her to pry the rag out of his grasp without protest. She places another kiss upon his left temple, pulling back enough so that he can see her encouraging smile. He looks into her eyes and sees the flickers of golden, genuine liveliness.

And feels like a damn fool for letting the dreams get to him again.

When Levi returns to bed with her, his hands are already venturing; beneath the fabric of her robe, parting it more. They have little time left till dawn breaks, and then the rest of the quarters would stir; awaken for the new day against the Titans. Now he would not think about that. Levi presses his wife into the mattress, prepares to spend the remainder of these next sleepless hours with something more pleasant to occupy his mind.

Slowly he falls into her warmth, and he thinks she is the sun he was denied nearly all of his life. There is tenderness in the way that their bodies cradle each other. Petra is soft and beautiful; he feels he has to restrain himself in his eagerness because she looks so fragile beneath him. He remains firmly vacant of expression, only minutely creased with ecstasy when she rolls her hips forward with his. She calls to Levi in the breathy voice that drives him crazy, he responds in kind with a content sound of his own, and he wants to feel worthy of being with Petra like this, and to protect her from the mountainous weight that is his sins.

~oOo~

The nightmares return. They are worse than before. When he rouses he still hears Petra, but when he turns, ripping the blankets from his sweat drenched body; the bed is empty in the spot that she used to keep warm. Her figure has not been there for a long time.

In these moments, Levi gets to thinking again, about who has the right to decide if someone should live or die. Growing bitterness fills him, and she would surely be disappointed. Then again, he never believed he deserved her trust anyway, having greedily accepted all the sacrificed time and love, yet still refusing to share anything in return.

A vile rage lights his dark eyes these days, when people speak of Petra, and they say: "She was killed by a Titan."

No. She was _murdered_ by a _woman_. Another intellectual human being.

He settles back calmly, and the color red is everywhere. He does not know if it is an accumulation of all the blood that spilled from his past victims, or of the heated fire that fuels his thirst for revenge.

Perhaps a combination of the two. He forces himself to close his eyes and rest.

Every moment of the rest of his life is _for her_.

Only for Petra would Levi become a killer once more.

~oOo~


End file.
